TOM FASHION. This quick despatch of the chaplain’s I take so kindly it shall give him claim to my favour as long as I live, I assure you. MISS HOYDEN. And to mine too, I promise you. NURSE. I most humbly thank your honours; and may your children swarm about you like bees about a honeycomb! MISS HOYDEN. Ecod, with all my heart—the more the merrier, I say—ha, nurse? _Enter_ LORY. LORY. One word with you, for Heaven’s sake. [_Taking_ TOM FASHION _hastily aside_.] TOM FASHION. What the devil’s the matter? LORY. Sir, your fortune’s ruined if you are not married. Yonder’s your brother arrived, with two coaches and six horses, twenty footmen, and a coat worth fourscore pounds—so judge what will become of your lady’s heart. TOM FASHION. Is he in the house yet? LORY. No, they are capitulating with him at the gate. Sir Tunbelly luckily takes him for an impostor; and I have told him that we have heard of this plot before. TOM FASHION. That’s right.—[_Turning to_ MISS HOYDEN.] My dear, here’s a troublesome business my man tells me of, but don’t be frightened; we shall be too hard for the rogue. Here’s an impudent fellow at the gate (not knowing I was come hither incognito) has taken my name upon him, in hopes to run away with you. MISS HOYDEN. Oh, the brazen-faced varlet! it’s well we are married, or maybe we might never have been so. TOM FASHION. [_Aside_.] Egad, like enough.—[_Aloud_.] Pr’ythee, nurse, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to the gate before I speak to him. NURSE. An’t please your honour, my lady and I had better, lock ourselves up till the danger be over. TOM FASHION. Do so, if you please. MISS HOYDEN. Not so fast; I won’t be locked up any more, now I’m married. TOM FASHION. Yes, pray, my dear, do, till we have seized this rascal. MISS HOYDEN. Nay, if you’ll pray me, I’ll do anything. [_Exit with_ NURSE.] TOM FASHION. Hark you, sirrah, things are better than you imagine. The wedding’s over. LORY. The devil it is, sir! [_Capers about_.] TOM FASHION. Not a word—all’s safe—but Sir Tunbelly don’t know it, nor must not yet. So I am resolved to brazen the brunt of the business out, and have the pleasure of turning the impostor upon his lordship, which I believe may easily be done. _Enter_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY. Did you ever hear, sir, of so impudent an undertaking? SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY. Never, by the mass; but we’ll tickle him, I’ll warrant you. TOM FASHION. They tell me, sir, he has a great many people with him, disguised like servants. SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY. Ay, ay, rogues enow, but we have mastered them. We only fired a few shot over their heads, and the regiment scoured in an instant.—Here, Tummus, bring in your prisoner. TOM FASHION. If you please, Sir Tunbelly, it will be best for me not to confront this fellow yet, till you have heard how far his impudence will carry him. SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY. Egad, your lordship is an ingenious person. Your lordship, then, will please to step aside.